


School Sucks

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Brothers [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk has social anxiety, Gen, Strider Family, good parenting, like VERy BAD SOCIAL ANXIETY, my tumblr is knight-of-heart-and-art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:17:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Dirk doesn't want to go to school and he has both a list of reasons and a viable alternative.This goes withBeing A Brother Is Hard As Hell!However, if you just want to read a short fic of D and Bro being good brothers to a frustrated eleven-year-old, this should stand alone just fine.





	School Sucks

Dirk's sitting on the couch when you come out of the kitchen with your first cup of coffee. That's normal. 

What's _not_ normal is that his backpack is nowhere in sight, or that there's a painfully determined expression on his eleven-year-old face.

"I need to talk to you, D," he says as soon as you step into the room, tilting his head back to look up at you and crossing his arms. His lower lip's trembling—your little bro is scared, and you can feel the damn big-bro instincts kicking in, whispering that's it's a pretty good idea to figure out what frightened him and kick their ass. 

Which is probably unnecessary. Or illegal. Or both. 

Instead, you nod and sit down on the couch next to Dirk, taking a sip of coffee, then setting the cup on the low table and watching him carefully. "We got time for a talk, kiddo. Might want to make it quick, though, or you're gonna miss the bus." 

Okay, that got a reaction—a widening of amber eyes, and a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "I'm gonna miss the bus anyway." He hesitates, then adds reluctantly, "On purpose. I don't want to go to school." 

"Uh..." Damn, you've never had this problem with Dirk before. He's good in school, pulls straight A's in everything since first grade, and even if he comes home upset more afternoons than not he doesn't _hate_ it, does he? Anyway, you have zero clues how to handle this. "Dude, this probably isn't the best answer for me to give you, but if you want a day off—"

"No, D, that's not—" Dirk sighs in frustration, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and looking down for a second. "I don't want to go back, okay? It's—there's too many _kids,_ it got worse from last year and last year wasn't fun, I don't like talking to them and they won't let me _not_ talk..." His head comes up to meet your eyes, and you decide that he's not scared, he's fucking pissed. And on top of that, he's upset. "The teacher said I cheated, just 'cause I knew the answers to all his tests already, he kept asking me more questions and I _did_ know what the answers were, I did, but I can't talk when there's people looking at me, D, I didn't cheat—" 

"Dirk, hey. Hey. It's okay. C'mere." Your little bro shakes his head stubbornly, but when you hold out your arms he scoots closer to you, hiding his face in your shirt. "How come they didn't call me about this?" 

Dirk just shrugs and shakes his head, sniffling into your shirt. 

"Maybe because the school has my number in their contact info, for some fucked-up reason?" your other brother suggests, from the doorway to Dirk and Dave's room. He steps out and shuts the door quietly, coming over to flop down in the other chair. "That teacher's a bitch." 

"Guys aren't bitches," Dirk mumbles from where he still has his face pressed against your chest. 

"This one is, lil' man. Takes a special breed of asshole to get to that point, but that motherfucker made it." 

"I'm going to wash your mouth out with soap, Bro." He just grins at your warning. It's not like you haven't told him that at least once a week for the nine years you've had Dirk. "What'd you tell the guy?" 

"That unless he caught Dirk with test keys or some shit, he could fucking fight me." 

"Oh, god." You shake your head and let go of Dirk with one hand to rub at your temples. "I'm calling the school and changing the fucking contact numbers, you're _so_ not qualified to have a convo with anyone in authority." 

"Good plan." Bro smiles sweetly at you for a second, then makes the smile disappear as if it'd never been there, replacing it with a completely uncharacteristic serious expression. "I mean, kinda good. Kid doesn't want to go back at all, though." 

You look down at the kid in question, who is currently not looking at you or at anyone else. "Dirk?" 

"I don't like being there," he says after a second, very quietly. Still doesn't raise his head; just keeps his face pressed up against you, hands gripping nervously at your shirt. "I don't like it...there's too many people. I, I freeze up and can't—can't talk, then the teachers'll make me go to the nurse's office. Except when I get there I'm okay, so I get in trouble and I have to go back to the classroom anyway..." He shrugs, shoulders moving under your hand. "And I don't cheat. They said I do, but I _don't_. Not _ever._ " 

"Never." You don't make it a question, but Dirk takes it as one; he looks up at you with an unhappy frown, eyes blazing with indignation. 

"Not even once." And you have to work pretty damn hard at not laughing when he adds, "I don't need to." Fucking Strider arrogance. It's cute on a kid. Going to get him in a shitload of fights when he gets older. 

"I say you let him do it," Bro suggests from where he's made himself comfortable in the chair, (presumably) watching you and Dirk from behind those stupid shades he wears. "Be better for the poor kid than what he's got going now." 

"Of course _you'd_ say it's a good idea." You roll your eyes at him. "You wanted to drop out every fucking year of highschool, Bro." 

"Dirk's not dropping out. There's some online thing, I don't even know—but he's still gonna do schoolwork, just without the actual school." Your brother grins and leans over, reaching across to ruffle Dirk's hair and chuckling at the resultant irritated squeak. "Kid found all this shit out on his own, too. _Smart_ lil' fucker." 

"They let you 'learn at your own pace'," Dirk tells you, and damn if you can't hear the quotation marks in his tone. "It's the same curriculum as they use in real school, plus you can _add_ things." He offers you one of his rare smiles, this one filled with hope. "I want to do it and add _everything,_ D." 

God, he's cute. And he's smart, you know he's so fucking smart. And really, Bro's right—Dirk isn't having a helpful experience in sixth grade, straight A's or no. 

So...

"Go get your backpack, kiddo." When his face twists with dismay, you pat his shoulder. "Hey, I gotta call the school and actually get you officially taken out, right? Can you handle one more day?" 

Dirk nods and slides out of your lap, and Bro laughs. "He's a fucking _Strider,_ D, he can handle anything." 

"Okay, true. But you're also a Strider, so you can handle giving Dirk a ride to school while I get Dave up." Bro's groan is very much expected. He shuts up when you add, "It's your punishment for not fucking telling me about the call from school." 

He huffs, stretching like a cat before getting to his feet. "Okay. That's fair." 

"Oldest bro's always fair. That's a fucking rule; don't you dare forget it." 

You just know he's rolling his eyes _so_ fucking hard behind those shades. Dick.


End file.
